Sunday, November 23, 2014

"Exit the Warrior"

Bereft of a rental car, Slats asked if I could transport him
to the nearest Aston Martin dealership on Saturday.Why not?The DB9 is a fine bit of automotive engineering. And I’m sure the
salespeople would love to see my ’01 Civic HX on their lot.

While on the road to Vienna, VA, we chatted about the
political arena and his semi-retirement therefrom.We’ve had variations on this conversation
before, but I suppose the nostalgia factor was running high with the holiday
music emanating from the radio.

“I got tired of oscillating between rage and regret,” he
said.

“Aren’t those two of your preferred emotions?”

He waved his hand in a manner that indicated he was being
serious.I knew I should stop cracking
wise for one minute, perhaps two if I exercised super-human self-restraint.

“No, and I’m not talking about the grind, or chasing down
campaigns for non-payment.It’s seeing
good people lose.Sometimes they were my
clients; other times, I was working against them.”

“Sounds like you still have a touch of the true believer.”

“Eh.Mercenary
sensibilities will only get you so far.Actually pretty far, based on what my accountant is telling me.But he keeps yelling about my spending
habits, so what does he know?”

Slats paused.He was
probably calculating his personal cash-on-hand following his most recent visit
to Atlantic City.After a moment, he
picked up again.

“So anyway, yeah.The
disappointment accumulates. It’s the tundra in January. One snowstorm leads to
the next and it settles in.It’s
isolating.I spent four months in
Kemijarvi, Finland back in…’79. Not the center of the city either, the
outskirts.”

“Sure, because downtown Kemijarvi is known for it’s bustle.”

“You have no idea.I
was in a cabin there…in the winter.It
was harsh too.Desolate once you got a
few miles off the main road.The snow
would pile up and there was nothing you could do about it.Same feeling when you see fine people getting
the short end of the electoral stick…folks who would shake up the System
getting overwhelmed by vicious circumstances.Spent too many Novembers cycling between anger and resignation. It wears
you down.”

“I hear you.I don't
know though. I always thought of those
occasions as opportunities for productive contemplation, for introspection.And long-term plotting on a grand scale, of course.”

“It helps if you know some good people.Authentic, dedicated to public service.Not raging, self-involved jagoffs.”

“I do actually.”

“Well,” he shrugged, “that’s good then.That is what keeps you going.Resilient people getting through the tough
times, the Valley Forge moments.”

“Ice melts. Spring always arrives.The shamrocks return every year.”

“I suppose that is true.Listen, when we get there, you should tell them you are looking for a
trade-in deal.How many miles you have
on this ride?”

“123,000, Slats.And
I’m not the one in the market for a new vehicle.”

“Why should you be? It’s practically just off the showroom
floor.Plenty of value left.”

“So you aren’t planning on buying today I assume?”

“Nah.The roads are
open. Not a flake of snow in sight.A
perfect day for a drive.”